


Kiss, Consume

by Pondermoniums



Series: Defy You, Stars [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst and Tragedy, Billy Hargrove Is Bad at Feelings, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Depression, Dissociation, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Imprinting, It's not all sad though, M/M, Mentions of World War 1 ptsd, Pining, Protective Billy Hargrove, Protective Steve Harrington, Reincarnation, Romeo and Juliet dynamic because of forbidden love, Skipping School, Soul Bond, Speakeasies, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, This is a SAD part 1 of a series with a happy ending, This started as a Twilight Divergent au, Vampire Steve, Violence, Werewolf Billy, it's the 1920s, let's get rowdy y'all, part 1 is the death, part 2 will be the reincarnation, soul mates, teen shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26953150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pondermoniums/pseuds/Pondermoniums
Summary: It's 1925.Billy felt a lot of things. Then again, that was the whole nature of it, but mostly, his blood boiled. Pissed off and seething with a heartbroken rage.The universe really fucked him.And then the vampire’s head turned towards him like he knew. Locked eyes directly with Billy with a stoicism that poorly hid the vamp’s curiosity and how he wavered between insult or humor.“Well, are you going to sit down?”• Part 1 of 2 •
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Defy You, Stars [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966861
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! As ever, I'm impatient to upload things before I've finished them. I wanted to have part 1 ready and done so I could upload it with part 2's first chapter and everything would be smooth sailing...
> 
> But here we are. PLEASE read the tags. This Part 1 is a tragedy, even though I do look forward to filling it with glorious fluff, smut, and soft/domestic boyfriend things. As soft as a vampire and werewolf can be, at least.
> 
> This DID start off as a Twilight_au, but....the whole "vampires don't have freckles" fucked me up lol Steve keeps his moles, okay. Basically the only Twilight things here are how the eye color can change depending on blood diet, shifter soul bonds, and animosity between shifters and vampires. But details will be explained as we go ~ Part 2 will be in the 1980s unless I decide to put them in modern times by the time we get there haha

Billy felt a lot of things. Then again, that was the whole nature of it, but mostly, his blood _boiled_. Pissed off and seething with a heartbroken rage.

The universe really fucked him.

And then the vampire’s head turned towards him like he _knew_. Locked eyes directly with Billy with a stoicism that poorly hid the vamp’s curiosity and how he wavered between insult or humor.

“Well, are you going to sit down?” A little laugh on the end of it.

It could have been, quite possibly, the worst question to ask a shifter. Wolves are likened to obedient dogs far too much. However, Billy stood in the middle of the biology class with surrounding students beginning to peer at him.

He sat.

Meanwhile, everything about this vampire pissed him off. His very existence was a pestilence; his smell was too strong, the light hit his skin _wrong_ , and Billy had always heard of vampires being a real arrogant bunch. This proved obnoxiously true, as—“Steve! Stop leaning on the back legs of your chair. This isn’t grade school.”— _Steve_ slouched in the hard, wooden seat like it was a recliner.

And he was restless. Tapping the eraser-end of his pencil on the black table, letting his fingers slide down with each hit, and then swiveling up so it was graphite-side down—Tap. Tap. Tap. _Tap_. _Tap_. _Tap_.

Billy gripped the damn thing before he meant to, before he considered the implications of touching _him_.

Cold.

But…not as cold as Billy had anticipated.

He slapped the pencil over the ravine of Steve’s open book and retracted his hand, chalking it up to the fact that it was late August, and certainly not because the dead prick had fed recently.

Because he…hadn’t. Vamps were supposed to have eerie eyes. Billy didn’t quite believe it—red eyes for human blood and yellow for animal? How does that work? He would say blood is blood, but that wasn’t really true. After all, he considered his own as much of a curse as a blessing. Either way, the guy’s eyes were just dark pools in the poorly lit day on the other side of the window.

The humidity smelled like rain. It made Billy want to be outside. Not in this stuffy classroom with dead, stale wood and bored, flailing hormones when the outside _breathed_. Lush, living trees, and nature that knew what it was doing, or at least knew to just _be_ , instead of this lost crowd—

Steve sneezed.

Fucking _sneezed_.

No sooner had somebody called, “Bless you,” than the vampire sneezed _again_ , and posed an accusatory look at _Billy_. “Do you have a cat?”

“No…?” he answered before he meant to, but Steve was up and moving his chair back, lifting the collar of his sweater vest over his mouth to sneeze and wave an apology to the teacher on his way out of the room. Some classmates peered between him and Billy before returning their focus to the blackboard, but the latter couldn’t be bothered.

Because having all of Steve focused on him for that brief second made something in Billy’s brain cut out. He swallowed a thick, dry patch in his throat.

Steve was going to be a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Defy you, stars," and "kiss, consume" are both tiny snippets from Romeo and Juliet <3
> 
> [Twitter~](https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums)  
> [Tumblr~](http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/)


	2. Moon and Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is alternatively called: Pumpkin Shitter lol

“Why do you smell like that?”

Billy stopped in his tracks. The marrow in his bones knew that voice before his brain even registered how Steve had somehow known he’d skip out during lunch. He followed the sound to where Steve leaned against the seat of…a BMW motorcycle. Long and slim like Steve. Black paint with white seams like the lines traveling up the back of panty hose—

_Jesus fuck, get it together._

Billy tore his eyes off of Steve’s legs crossed at the ankles. As much as Billy should have known the expensive motorbike would belong to the vamp on site, he couldn’t help but glance at the rest of the lot. “I’m surprised you don’t have the keys to a Roadster.”

“My mom lets me drive hers sometimes,” Steve replied around an exhalation of smoke. A slim box of cigarettes now roosted in the rolled sleeve on his forearm. God, he dressed like such a private school cockatoo. He even wore those Oxford dress shoes underneath his chocolate trousers.

His shirt was rumpled and blue, though. A dusky, sapphire blue like puppies’ eyes before they change to rich ochre gold. The collar points had been unevenly folded over the sweater vest. That was something. The vest on top was a dark blue and evergreen argyle pattern, but with noticeable crimson threading in the collar, arms, and hem. Thin, red X’s in the middle of each diamond. Steve didn’t stand out, apart from the overall _money_ on his back, but in the open air and unobstructed light, Steve was full of hidden colors. His dark brown hair had a remarkable amount of gold in it. Chestnut. Like a good summer would turn a lot of it blond. And without blood changing his eyes, Billy could see brown. Whiskey brown, and…maybe it was the green on his clothes, but Billy could have sworn the subtlest wash of green swam with the brown. Dark creek waters.

The moles were what moved Billy’s boots over the aged, grey asphalt. Tiny brown spots on Steve’s cheek and jaw, and as Billy moved closer, saw a couple more in the shadow of his throat—

“Wait. _Mom?_ You have a mom?”

Steve’s cigarette had made it to his lips, but hung limp as he stared at Billy. Then he laughed and laughed, barely catching the tobacco between his fingers so it didn’t tumble to the ground. After a moment, he cleared his throat and confirmed, “My mom says I’m pretty but I’m mostly sure she didn’t grow me out of the ground like a rose or something.”

But Billy’s mind still reeled from Steve’s earlier statement. “She _lets you_ drive her car?”

Steve openly gaped at him like Billy might be a chandelier missing several bulbs. “Well it’s…kind of a big car? I don’t—I don’t understand what you’re not getting here. She’s gonna notice a thing like that missing from the garage.”

Billy took the cigarette from his fingers, quick as a blink. He inhaled deeply, certainly not finding that his lips fit in the minor indentions made by Steve’s lips in the wrapping. “I didn’t think vampires asked permission for anything.”

“Look, if I want to rile someone up, it’ll be my dad. But my mom doesn’t deserve my bullshit.”

A thin trail of smoke followed Billy’s hand as he gestured. “Now you have a dad too? Who are these people posing as your parents?”

That look again. Like Billy was the idiot here. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re a vampire, right?”

“Sure, but you could’ve opened with that. Manners can take you a long way.”

Billy inhaled but let the cigarette stay in his mouth while he countered, “You’re right. Are you a vampire, and why are you pretending like you’re some blushing sixteen year old?”

“You’re two years off,” Steve said while plucking the roll out from Billy’s lips. He blinked softly while taking a drag; a fractional moment of stillness between them. “But my birthday passed recently. There’s still time to get me a gift.”

Billy processed that. “Eighteen.”

“Yeah.”

“Actually eighteen.”

“Like I’ve existed for eighteen years and some change, yes,” Steve emphasized. “What’s your excuse?”

Billy frowned at the box tucked under Steve’s sleeve. He considered taking one of the cigarettes for himself. “My excuse?”

“Yeah, why do you smell like…” Steve grimaced with a shake of his head, trying to find something analogous to what his nasal palette read off of Billy. “Like pepper and cumin or something. Your bike doesn’t smell like that.”

Billy stared at him, once again overwhelmed by the rush of details. Steve was young enough to know human food. Steve had…he must’ve _just_ turned. But Billy chose to grin and run his tongue over his bottom lip. “You’ve been out here sniffing my seat?”

The motorbike in question stood at the end of the row, angled and ready to bolt out of here. A beat up _Triumph_ , it got Billy where he needed to go even if he had to do maintenance on it every other week. He didn’t mind a little grease under his nails now and then. One of the veterans in the pack, Michael, had all but given it to him. Just a few dollars and a shit load of lawn work before they moved…

Steve looked away to smirk at the automobiles: all the steel family jewels bought by government war money. “No. Just the clothes under it.”

Billy’s mirth vanished. Nobody knew about the narrow compartment under the seat. Not even Michael. Billy had installed it and made sure it was big enough to hold a meager change of clothes. Or a revolver, like Michael’s.

Steve’s eyes wandered his face. He must have felt the cigarette burning low, because he let it fall from his fingers while he asked, “Did I step on a landmine?”

“It takes a key to open that, you invasive piece of shit.” Billy did wrench the box from the vampire’s sleeve, then. He used his own lighter to inhale blessed smoke. It ruined his tongue and nose for an hour, but the better to guard against any breezes that caught on Steve first.

“It was unlocked,” he defended—practically whined, like it really wasn’t his fault.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes it—oh.”

Billy watched Steve glance at said bike and the compartment he had broken without even realizing. His eyes caught on Steve’s throat as he swallowed. “Shit. Sorry.”

And Billy…Billy ought to be mad at that. He would be livid beyond reckoning if anyone else had found it, let alone possessed the stupid strength to break into it. Instead he felt…concern.

“Listen. It’s only a box held together by a metal latch, but for you to just open it like it’s a shoebox…I’ve only heard of baby vamps, or old as dirt ones, having that kind of oblivious strength.”

Steve wasn’t looking at him. He raked a hand through his longish tresses while gazing at the automobiles and trees around the school. Billy could hear water somewhere, but that could be half a mile away or five, and his desire to be outside had long since been eclipsed by one vampire. He didn’t like that Steve wasn’t looking at him. He felt the warm prickle of jealousy, both at the cars around them and at Steve’s hair freedom. The pack alpha had ordained the military hairstyle superior. Billy was left with his curls on top, but closely shaved sides and back.

He shook his head once, jostling a couple of the longer curls over his forehead. Steve’s eyes flicked onto them as Billy murmured, “You haven’t met a shifter yet.”

“A what?”

“Shifter.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“I just said that. Jesus,” Billy huffed an annoyed laugh, moving his weight from one foot to the other. “Do you like _Dracula_?”

Steve turned his head slightly to the side, clearly suspicious of where Billy was going with this. “He’s…fine? Are you asking me to the pictures?”

“No.” Billy’s face lowered toward the ground. He inhaled for patience and tried to remind himself how, before being a vampire, Steve was just human. Christ, if he _just changed_ , he must’ve been a victim. It’s 1925; pubescent kids aren’t considered adults anymore. Getting bitten by some immortal monster, who liked teenagers a bit too much, didn’t grant someone the encyclopedia of all things non-human. Billy wasn’t even supposed to tell anybody this—

That realization wiped his features. Number one pack law: don’t compromise the pack’s safety. Keep the secret.

But…Steve is his _mate_.

Every fiber in his being, every stupid blood cell in his body said so. The marrow in his bones ran cold, because Billy knew that if Steve asked him to bare his neck for him…Billy just might.

He looked up and there he was, all of Steve focused on Billy. Brown eyes, somehow soft for a bloodsucker—

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, and God and Heaven, he looked and sounded like he really meant it. That he was worried about Billy. Billy could feel himself drowning in the vacuum of that focus.

Only…it wasn’t drowning at all. Billy felt some secret compartment of himself just…open. A shoebox of all Billy’s precious, delicate pieces he kept hidden in a private place. It opened like it had never been locked. For Steve.

_Mine. He’s mine. Vamp or not. Steve’s mine._

_Moon and Stars protect me. I’m his._

It isn’t really an issue of choice, then. “You know how Dracula can summon wolves and talk to them and all that?”

Steve shook his head. “I can’t talk to wolves.”

“This isn’t about you. It’s about me. And—um—you sort of can. Now. Because you know me.” Those large eyes widened under rising eyebrows. Billy had a severely limited amount of time before he lost Steve’s ability to understand. “I’m saying Dracula can turn into stuff. He can turn into a wolf. Like me.”

“You’re not a vampire.”

“No, I’m a shifter.”

“I can’t turn into a wolf.”

“We’re not talking about you, Steve—”

“But Dracula’s a vampire.”

“I’m saying I can turn into a wolf.”

“What?” Steve grimaced like it was some big joke. He swayed his weight with a crooning, “ _Nooo_.”

“ _Yes_ —” Billy stopped himself before he snapped. Pressing his lips together, he scraped his tongue over his front teeth.

“But your clothes in the bike don’t smell like wet dog and bad chili.”

Billy gaped at him. “That’s where your focus is right now?”

“Yeah?” Steve adjusted his weight on the bike to uncross his legs. “And I don’t know your name.”

“Excuse me?” Billy almost barked.

“You said my name. I don’t know yours.”

Oh. Valid point. “It’s Billy.”

Steve held out his hand, and Billy sighed. The universe really fucked him.

“You run hot,” Steve chimed, tilting Billy’s hand, as if he hid an answer on the back of it or something. Steve’s skin was cool to the touch, like an autumn breeze. The vamp barely held his palm, like Billy was fragile. Steve had no idea how breakable a vampire could be.

“You can do better than that,” he taunted, giving Steve’s hand a mean squeeze.

“I’d rather not,” Steve laughed, but it was nervous.

“I might be warm, but I’m not weak.”

Steve frowned somewhat, retracting his hand. “I didn’t say you were.”

“Shifters can match vampires in speed and strength.”

“I’m so impressed.”

Billy’s features flattened. “I’m serious!”

“Uh huh,” Steve purred, finally standing up straight. The bastard was taller. “You wanna come over to mine? You can wash that ridiculous smell off.”

“I see you care about your education.”

“I don’t think you understand how bad you smell.”

“Why’s it gotta be your house?” Billy interrogated. Steve is his mate, but Billy’s not stupid. “Do you live in a coven?”

“A what?” Steve turned his back to him in order to raise a leg over his motorcycle. Billy tried not to let his jaw drop too far, but _damn_ …the sway of Steve’s hips that rippled up his spine… The view was excellent back here.

“Other vampires.”

“No. Just me. My folks are out of town.”

“Why should I believe that?”

Steve looked back at him like Billy was a fool to not trust him. “I thought you said you could match me?”

“Oh, I can, pretty boy.”

“Can your bike?”

The engine roared to life underneath him. Billy wore a grin before he could stop it. He was really beginning to like Steve. “Don’t even think about getting a head start, bastard.”

“ ‘Course not. I gotta give you a chance.” Steve raised his voice while Billy strode down the line to his ride.

“Where are we going?” Billy called over his own engine. He walked his vehicle to the exit of the lot, pausing beside Steve.

“All the way down Main Street. Turn right at the four-way. Finish line is the start of my neighborhood. Can’t miss it.”

“Main Street? A straight shot?”

“Too hard?” Steve smiled at him.

Billy took off like a shot down the road. Better that than waiting for Steve’s go-ahead. Billy had to keep some bullets in his pocket, after all. The thing is, in between neighborhoods were fields and woods. Billy and his bike already knew the roads. The wolf knew everywhere else.

“Woah woah woah WOAH! Pumpkin shitter!” Steve bellowed when Billy went off road. But Billy howled at the growl of Steve behind him, grinned at Steve passing him. Because the bikes were a joke. They could run faster than a diesel engine over gnarled tree roots and tilled land. That didn’t stop them from whooping at the farmer’s warning rifle shots before they swerved back into the woods. Didn’t stop them from skidding back onto Main Street and slaloming between cars to get through the forked streets without waiting.

Billy won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve: ???? Why are you being mean to me??  
> Billy: ???? Why are you being NICE to me??
> 
> [Twitter~](https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums)  
> [Tumblr~](http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/)


	3. Toe to Toe

They eased to a pedestrian-tolerant speed and he let Steve drive a little ahead, but not without gloating beside him, “That shiny piece of junk doin’ you right?”

“You took me by surprise, asshole. That’s all.” Steve was smiling. He led the way through a neighborhood Billy’s pack would scoff at; the kind of scorn the lower class has for the uppers. Even broke people have their pride, and Billy felt it like a bad taste on the back of his tongue. Wolves may be fine with very little, but humanity judges that kind of lack thereof. The older, proud wolves scorned gilded finery. Family money. Steve wore it on his feet and opened a goddamn renovated carriage house for their bikes—

“Do you want a refill?”

Billy could only stare at the gas can Steve was offering until his meaning slammed into him. “You don’t use the filling station like normal people?” He accepted and topped off his bike.

“The attendant gives me the creeps,” Steve admitted, and Billy had to look at him to gauge his sincerity.

“You’re joking,” he accused. He almost extracted his key from his leather jacket, but then he remembered that Steve broke the box under his seat. He retrieved a fresh shirt, undershirt, and boxer shorts. “You’re jumpy over some filling attendant?”

“He has bullet scars. That might be cool, but he stares too long at—”

“You don’t know many people from the war, huh?”

Steve looked at him as he shut the big wooden door and led their strides into the house. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Billy said as his eyes scanned the mudroom. They had a mudroom. “Men in my pack got drafted,” he finished while mirroring Steve in the removal of their shoes. Steve put his in a cubby on the wall.

“Pack? You’re really riding this wolf thing out, I guess.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never even heard of the trashy versions of us,” Billy scoffed, padding over the fancy tiled floors of the kitchen. Steve picked up his stride to all but skip into the lounge room. After a second, Billy realized Steve might have just moved at _his_ speed. In the comfort of his own house, with someone who _knew_ , certain mannerisms seemed to be peeking through. Billy found him searching through a bookshelf, but he eventually sank to his knees, sitting on his ankles while he pried something from the bottom shelf. The sight was…cute…until Steve held up a worn out booklet.

“Do you mean the Were-Wolf?”

Billy’s head sagged to the side, an obvious sigh of disgust leaving him. “Don’t call us that.”

Steve gaped at him for a long second, and then seemed to look at the shelves with new eyes. He began pulling out all of the dusty little books, so Billy rubbed a finger under his nose as he sat down on the scratchy Oriental rug. He moved the hanging straps of his denim overalls out from under his rear. “What are these?”

“They’re Penny Dreadfuls from Europe,” Steve chimed. “First editions and stuff. My dad brought them back because my mom collects them. Here’s Dracula again.”

Billy picked up the book that Steve dropped onto his lap. He frowned at the cover. “ _Dracula’s Guest_?”

“There’s a wolf in it, I think,” Steve remarked, like that was all the explanation Billy needed.

Billy frowned at him from under his brows even though Steve didn’t see it. He opened the cover to read, _‘Herein is an exempt chapter from Bram Stoker’s original manuscript. Legible as a stand-alone short story…’_

The cover clapped shut in his grip and he hit it lightly against Steve’s shoulder. “I thought your lordship wanted me to bathe?”

“Don’t call me that,” Steve returned, but took Billy’s wrist so they could counter-weight stand together. He analyzed Billy’s meager collection of raiment. “Do you want to borrow some pants?”

He didn’t let go of Billy’s arm…nor vice versa. “Since you’re new to this, let me tell you: it’s not a good idea for a wolf to walk around smelling like a vamp.”

“ _Alll_ -right,” Steve droned, but when he let go and stared at the floor on his way past Billy, the young wolf’s heart crawled into his ribs, wounded. “The guest bathroom has regular soap.”

“What do you classify as regular soap?” Billy couldn’t help but ask on their way up the stairs.

“It just smells like soap.”

Steve opened the door of the guestroom and Billy peeked in like he wasn’t meant to go in. He thought briefly back to his house, shared with the pack. The older members kept their own houses, but the young orphans shared a bathroom in the alpha’s home. Billy reckoned every bedroom in this house had its own washroom, but he couldn’t really appreciate it, as Steve kept going down the hallway without a glance back.

“Use it as long as you want. I’ll be downstairs.”

He didn’t go downstairs, though. Billy saw him go to the doorway of, presumably, his own room before Billy dipped into the guest room. Part of him wanted to keep the door open; as a gesture of bravery or audacity, he didn’t know, but he settled with leaving it open an inch. The room smelled unused. Clean, and only minimally dusty, but any traces of cologne or perfume had long since faded.

Billy showered with no small amount of incredulity. He meets a vampire and a few hours later, he’s bathing in said vamp’s house. Billy couldn’t tell if his pack would sooner praise his boldness or skin him alive for such stupidity.

Probably the latter.

Definitely the latter.

Billy had grown up with gruesome tales about vampires; stories meant to frighten, and stories meant to embolden. When the vampire wins, it’s a tragedy for the wolves. When the wolves win, it’s a victory for all of wolfdom and mankind. A favor done for the universe. Now here he stood, under a vampire’s water and as much in a vampire’s perspective as he’d ever come.

Steve seemed…well, not altogether an arrogant, insidious monster that Billy had been led to expect. Although, _there’s still time for that_ , he thought bitterly. Mate or not, Billy could not say he knew Steve after a single motorcycle race. The generosity had taken Billy so much by surprise that it was his only excuse for coming this far. The only things that had yet incited a negative reaction had to do with smell. Billy had, admittedly, let his hygiene take a careless and indecorous turn over the last week, but it was Billy’s insinuating that Steve’s scent was an affront that made the vampire turn cold.

Figuratively speaking.

Billy took care drying himself before slipping his boxer shorts on. He didn’t know why, but he scraped behind his ears and hung the towel on the wall rack while he was at it. Maybe he felt bad for his comment. Maybe, after being so easily invited to an empty house— _this is where my soul mate lives_ —Billy wanted to enable a second invitation. This could be, after all, the first day of the rest of their lives…

He sighed at the countertop, and then met his gaze in the mirror.

_When did you become an optimist, Billy?_

He shook his head and bent for his overalls. Part of him wished he’d taken Steve up on his offer for softer pants, but that was the part that wanted to march right into Steve’s room. Move in and make a den with Steve in the middle.

At least, that’s what his mind indulged in as he came down the stairs, following the sound of a radio. His leather jacket hung on his arm while he tucked his collared shirt loosely into his jeans. The denim straps hung around his thighs and his white undershirt peeked out from between his shirt buttons.

Then he came smack into contact with that smell again. Why do vampires smell _sweet_? And…like the taste of a lemon seed. Acridly bitter and sour underneath that syrup.

Steve sat on the kitchen counter, one of the books in his hands while the radio played next to the stove. The whisper-soft crackles mixed with a woman’s voice nicely. Steve didn’t move as Billy set his jacket on a carved kitchen chair, his eyes moving between Steve and the thing Billy had seen very few times before: a refrigerator. “Can I get a drink?”

Steve peeked up like he hadn’t heard Billy come down the stairs. “Sure.”

Billy heard a page turn behind him while he perused the fridge. A double-door fridge. Fully stocked. Somebody who still ate food lived here. “Where did you say your folks are?”

“Business. Dad’s got dinners so mom goes with him.”

Billy popped the cap off a glass bottle with the back of his thumbnail. He caught it before it clattered loudly into the sink. He let the smell of cola drift up to him before he touched his lips to the glass. “Big place like this, I don’t get to know where the money’s coming from?”

Steve should have been insulted. Nobody likes to talk about the ins and outs of their bank accounts. But Steve just looked up and blinked at the small, A-post calendar standing on the fridge. “Manhattan. It’s usually Manhattan.”

Sure enough, there it was, marked in what was surely his mother’s elegant script. Then Billy frowned. “They’ve been gone for two weeks?”

“I haven’t burned the house down yet.”

Well, yeah, Steve had no reason to cook. Which begged the question, “What do you do with that kind of time?”

“Your parents don’t take trips?”

“I don’t have parents. I have my pack.”

A moment of silence enveloped them. Billy had the time to notice the subtle changes in Steve’s attire. One side of his shirt had been pulled from where it was tucked into his belted trousers. He looked a little…extra rumpled on one side, like he might’ve lain down for a while. Billy reached forward, taking his time folding the corner of his shirt collar back down from where it had turned up like a cowlick. It was almost cute, how Steve frowned in between blinks before he admitted, “Is that…better?”

He briefly peered down at what Billy was doing until the latter answered, “Pack is family.”

“How come I haven’t seen any of them? Small town. Big group of people moving in would’ve been on everybody’s minds.”

Billy moved his hand from Steve to the counter beside him. “I’m the only high school student who bothered to show up today, that’s all.”

“Have we made that bad of a first impression, or are you just excited?” Steve teased.

“The older wolves are still learning the woods. They take the kids out in shifts, for safety and all that.”

“What about you?”

Billy’s lashes kissed his cheeks, nice and slow as he crooned, “I know the woods.”

“That sounds like you break some rules.”

“You have no idea.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Steve smiled.

“You’re not?” Billy slid right back. “I’m putting my neck on the line just sitting next to you in class.”

“Against whose standards? Your pack’s? Doesn’t sound like much of a family, then.”

“You wouldn’t know. There’s more to wolves than just fur.”

“If you say so,” Steve finished on an exhalation. There was something careful in the way he set the book on the counter. _Dracula’s Guest_ , Billy saw, but Steve had stepped down and was already sauntering back to the mudroom. “Wanna walk?”

As Billy laced up his boots once more, he watched out of the corner of his eye how Steve rolled up his trousers and used metal clips to keep them there. Then he removed Converse sneakers from one of the cubbies. The stained canvas stood high around his ankles, but Steve just gave the laces a yank, and tied the bows behind his Achilles tendons. Billy could see those bows as Steve clapped down the stoop.

“Take a bath and then make me dirty again?”

“We’re not wrestling. We’re walking,” Steve retorted.

“And what’s a country bumpkin going to do with me in the woods?”

Steve glanced back at him with a mixture of amusement and suspicion. “Is that why you went to school instead of being with your pack? Scared of what bumps around the trees? In broad daylight?”

“Not one bit,” Billy declared as he ambled next to Steve over the trail winding behind the houses. It was easy to not realize how close the houses stood, dense as the trees and shrubbery were between each one, but Steve skipped down a knoll and walked across a bridge arching over a creek. “Do you skip school a lot?”

“Sometimes. I don’t mind school as much as I used to.”

 _Used to_. Billy didn’t know how far he could get away with prying, so he merely said, “Compared to what?”

Steve swiveled his weight to look at him. “This might surprise you, but I’m shit at getting good marks.”

Billy huffed a laugh. “Your literature-collecting parents didn’t inspire anything studious?”

“They tried, but I prefer being read to. I like listening and being on my feet, not analyzing small print.”

“So you being my biology partner is going to land me a failing grade.”

“Probably,” Steve taunted. “You okay with that?”

“No,” he chirped, earning a snicker. “What, you can’t dissect a frog?”

“I can think of a hundred things I’d rather be doing than chopping up something that’s soaked in formaldehyde.”

“Go ahead. Reel ‘em off,” he challenged.

“Well…this,” Steve began with a gesture between them. He moved like he knew the rocks he stepped over, that this was a trail he frequented. “I like walking. I like talking to people. I like going to the pictures, and when the fair comes. Don’t go to the fairgrounds beforehand, though.”

The warning caught Billy off guard. “Why?”

Steve smirked. “It’s where people go to make merry.”

The tension in Billy’s gut rolled over into humor. “What, all at once or do they schedule turns?”

Steve made an abrupt sound of disgust but it stumbled right into laughter. Billy liked that. Making him laugh. It made his chest feel lighter. “Ew. It’s just common knowledge and courtesy to give whatever cars you see a wide berth.”

“What are you doing in the fairgrounds if you’re not joining them?”

Billy couldn’t tell if he imagined the beat of silence or if Steve was just inhaling to reply, “My parents have been members of an equestrian club for—well, as long as I’ve been alive. A couple of trails pass through the grounds.”

“Equestrian…”

“Horses,” Steve supplied. “We ride horses.”

Billy snorted, “Is that some…luxury now? Are horses novel things to—oh.”

Steve turned his body right then, rushing curt steps down a slope to an empty railroad. In many ways, autumn was already present here, in the brown and yellowing leaves peeking through all the green. It smelled like a season changing.

When Steve looked back at Billy, though, he realized the train tracks weren’t what garnered the reaction. “Oh?”

Billy glanced at him before looking down the long line of steel in the forest. “I guess I didn’t expect large prey to be the meal of choice.”

As if Billy had never answered, Steve asked, “What do you like to do?” Maybe that was for the better.

“You mean when I can get away from the kids? Just about anything.”

“Kids?” Steve chimed. He walked with his hands in his pockets, looking at Billy. “Are there a lot of kids in your pack?”

Billy chuffed a rude sound, but instead of answering directly, he returned, “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t have any siblings. Is it nice?”

That was such a mundane answer, Billy answered honestly. “It’s the best and the worst. Especially if they like you. Then you never get the beetles off your back.”

Steve chuckled. “Sounds like they like you.”

They walked for a long time, talking about nothing and somehow everything. Billy didn’t know if Steve was still dubious over his being a shifter, or if he respected Billy’s right to be forthcoming with information. Eventually Billy realized they both sounded like nothing more than kids missing school. Billy had a large family who did potluck dinners almost every night, and Steve’s parents were out of town, leaving their trustworthy son to hold the fort. That’s all.

They shared biology and physical education. Steve visited the horse stables every Friday, but it didn’t get him out of the gym classes. The complaint made Billy laugh. “It’s not like you’ll break a sweat over anything.”

“Yeah, but what am I supposed to do? Dunk every other shot in basketball?”

“I’ll give you a run for your money, don’t you worry.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t think you understand…”

“I think I understand a whole lot more than you do. You’re pretty, but I’m—”

Steve had sprinted several hundred yards down the tracks before Billy fully registered what he was doing.

He blinked, and Steve stood right in front of him once more.

The vampire licked his lips and bounced a little on the balls of his feet. “You’re what?” he asked quietly.

Billy grinned and leaned in, toe to toe with him. “I’m next in line for pack alpha.”

In an instant, he bent and charged. His shoulder caught Steve’s stomach while an arm wrapped behind his legs. He simply picked Steve up on his shoulder, and kept running.

“BILLY!” Steve shrieked, but his guffaws rolled behind Billy’s strides.

“You’re dense but you’re light, pretty boy,” he responded easily, his lungs not strained in the least.

“Woah, you’re—you’re fast!”

Billy could feel Steve moving to see around them. “This is nothing. My wolf legs can go for miles and miles.”

“Can I see them? Or is it rude to ask?”

“For a non-shifter outside of the pack? Yeah. Plus I’d have to get naked to spare my clothes.”

“What, you don’t want to show this off—” Steve _smacked_ Billy right on his ass. “Lotta girls were eyeballing this at school— _Huhh!_ ”

Billy came to a halt so fast that Steve’s front bounced off his back; Billy felt the distinct point of Steve’s nose back there. He considered throwing Steve a quarter mile down the tracks, just to prove a point, but now that he had Steve in his arms—and Steve was touching him back—Billy was wont to end it. The fact that he wanted to keep holding onto a vampire was something to ruminate on later. Much later.

Steve’s voice escaped as Billy twirled to and fro, before he finally managed, “I’m not a doll. Put me down!”

“You’re pretty like one.”

“It’s the hair. So wait, unpack this for me—”

“Is that supposed to be a pun?”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Billy finally set him down. His head tilted as he watched Steve’s first instinct be the fixing of his clothing.

“So…normal people can join the pack?”

“I can’t answer any question you have.”

“You basically just said that non-shifters can be in the pack,” Steve pressed.

Billy sighed so hard he looked up at the sky while taking a step back. “No one just asks permission and joins. It’s law that pack safety comes first. We don’t just tell humans we exist.”

“You told me.”

“Yeah, well,” Billy scoffed, but it didn’t have the same sting he was used to dishing out. “Vampires are supposed to know about us already.”

“Supposed to,” Steve repeated with a haughty snort. “You’re a high and mighty bunch.”

“Funny. We say the same thing about you.” Billy would’ve liked to put his hands in his jacket pockets, but he left it in the kitchen.

For a moment, they both wandered over their little spot on the tracks, well outside of town by now. Billy had stopped a few yards shy of fields on either side of the railroad. Like some unspoken agreement between them, Steve didn’t move into the wide-open space. They stayed in the forest, and the ravine bed where the tracks rested.

“I’m picking up that you don’t like us very much.”

Billy looked sideways at him. At Steve. His Steve. The vampire who waited with his hands in his trouser pockets, forever eighteen.

“Neither of us are known for getting along.”

It was easy to picture Steve as a little kid, the way he lowered an unhappy expression to the ground and kicked at a leaf stuck on a beam between the rails. “Why not?”

_Because you’re wrong. You’re dead. You’re cold. The blood in your veins isn’t your own. You’re not supposed to exist._

“It’s instinct,” Billy shrugged, but the back of his throat ached. It felt like a lie. But it was also the truth. Billy’s hackles had risen when he first stepped into that classroom, the instant he smelled stale and sweet and _wrong_ … Before he saw Steve, and all of his instincts were rewritten.

“No it isn’t,” Steve scoffed.

Billy stared at him. “Yes, it is—what do you mean it isn’t?”

“Instinct is bullshit.”

Billy burst out laughing despite himself. “What the—What do you _mean_? Vampires have instincts. You knew the second you looked at me that I was different.”

Steve was looking down the tracks. The way his eyes slid to Billy…like a book had opened behind those eyes that he couldn’t see well enough to read.

“Then what does this mean? That you’ll be requesting a seating change?”

He really should. But…Billy didn’t want to. The very idea made his chest ache. “That’ll depend on just how shitty of a grade you land me.”

Steve scoffed, “Oh. Well. Quit while we’re ahead, I guess.”

“Is there anything you’re good at?”

Steve gaped at him, causing a bashful smile on Billy. “You—! Don’t say that like I won’t have an answer!”

“I’m waiting.”

“Yeah. Winning the second race. My house!”

Steve took off, leaving Billy a millisecond to gather himself before sprinting after him. “This is a head start, bastard!”

Steve sprang up the knoll into the forest with one leap and Billy tried not to sigh too hard. It might not be too bad, staying behind Steve and watching the light move on his hair rippling back and forth with his stride. But he had an ego to satisfy.

Steve’s smell and…something else left a trail for Billy’s wolf palette to gnaw on. He didn’t know what the second fragrance was. The smell of vampire flesh sparked adrenaline hatred in his blood, but…that new smell. It fueled the primal chase that slept deep in his bones…

Steve was laughing as Billy drew even with him. Loud guffaws broken up by giggles, and Steve _crowed_ his delight. It made Billy feel…strong.

This was right. His instincts said so. They sang it. Running beside Steve—Steve made happy because of Billy—made him slide into a medium Billy hadn’t known existed. A place between invigorated and tranquil.

“What are we gonna do after I win this?” he called over the wind howling past their ears.

“Could go back to school?” Steve returned with a hefty snort.

They didn’t go back to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wholesome bois being wholesome <3 we're all caught up now so daily uploads will stop haha but your thoughts and comments are always welcome <3
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	4. King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take this offering while I shirk all other responsibilities ~

Billy parked his motorcycle around the back of the white, clapboard house. It boasted nearly the same square footage as Steve’s, but where his house had a spacious, luxurious layout, Billy’s made every inch count.

Kids surrounded him before he’d even finished walking his bike over the brick walkway that split the picket fence. The neighbors didn’t judge him for being over-protective of his ride because his neighbors were pack members. The garage was just a solitary metal roof over the alpha’s car, so Billy set his vehicle snugly behind the house. The line of houses stood sandwiched between the road in front, and the forest behind.

“Move, runts. This thing’s heavy.”

“Alpha’s calling a meeting, Billy!” one of the girls, Danny, chimed.

“There’s always a meeting,” he droned, albeit quietly.

“He said it’s a big one,” came the newly changed voice of Luke. The kid was still scrawny with puberty lankiness, but his voice and eyes gave away something beyond his thirteen years. “We smelled something weird while we ran.”

Billy couldn’t hide his surprise, but he left the kids to jog into the house. Danny called behind him, “Did you shower?”

“Yeah. I got a gym class,” he semi-lied as he found the older members of the pack in the living room.

“Boots.”

Billy’s shoes squeaked on the hardwood. “Yes, alpha,” he said quietly, back pedaling towards the door. He left his shoes on the back stoop.

No sooner did he step back into the space, than the alpha locked hard, grey eyes on him. “Your patrols are doubling starting tonight. There’s a vampire in the area.”

“How many?” Billy asked. He didn’t dare inquire how the alpha knew. It was both a stupid question and a disrespectful one.

One of the other wolves answered, “At least one. The odor was fleeting, but we scented it too often and in too many nonlinear places. It wasn’t a vamp just passing through.”

“In your wanderings,” the alpha resumed, “did you smell or see anything abnormal?”

“No, sir. Nothing worth reporting.” Billy heard the little sounds of Luke sniffing the back of his arm. He threw a fist behind him, not enough to hurt the kid but certainly catching him and his soft belly off guard. “But this is the first vampire I’ll be encountering. What am I looking for?”

The older wolves shifted and the alpha blew smoke from his cigar. “You’ll know it when you smell it. Like rancid honey. And honey never spoils. That’s how upside-down the world will feel when you catch your first whiff.”

Michael, the human with wolf heritage, stood in the corner of the room. He kept a thumb hooked on his belt close to his holster while his other arm wrapped around his front to hold his ribs. Billy felt his eyes before he spoke. “Where you been that you didn’t smell such a thing?”

“Outskirts of town. Learning how far the fields go and where the farmland interrupts the forest.”

“You’re not leaving tracks, are you?” the alpha warned.

“That’s the reason I was out there. Learning the best distances for pups to roam without worrying about tracks.”

“The kids aren’t going anywhere without an elder,” one of said elders declared. An asshole with dark hair despite his red stubble who talked like he was second in command. Billy felt like he stood next to the popular clique’s lunch table even though his name was carved into the surface. And the elders knew it. Which only made it worse when they wanted to feel self-important.

The alpha leaned back in his recliner, garnering the room’s silence. “Billy, you’ll take Michael’s vehicle to school. You’ll drive as many people as will fit into it.”

“Yes, alpha.”

“Which means everyone will need to be ready on time so nobody’s late. You’ve got two schools to drop off and pick up from.”

Billy kept his sigh to a minimum exhale. Just what he wanted to do: corral puppies. “Yes, alpha.”

Ginger beard looked up at Billy from his comfortable place on the couch. “Is that a tone in your voice, boy?”

“Not nearly as much as yours, sir,” Billy threw right back in a deadpan monotone. It was a fifty-fifty chance the alpha would either be on his side or chastise him. All the assholes and all the runts followed Billy when the alpha wasn’t present, after all. No matter how much they ran their mouths, on four legs, Billy was king.

Turns out today, it was neither. The alpha remained silent, rotating the cigar in his fingers instead of puffing from it while he contemplated. “Anyone so much as notices a broken twig out of place, I want to hear about it. If a smell stays in certain spots, we need to know, just as much as new sightings.”

The room nodded collectively. “Yes, alpha,” murmured in unison.

“Only patrols out at night. We’ll discuss further arrangements before the moon. Dismissed. Billy.”

He stayed put, only stepping aside for the room to clear of nosey kids and grown men on their way back to their hobbies. Billy felt his spine go rigid when the alpha stood, arriving to stand just close enough so Billy felt small. In truth, Billy was taller. Not by much, and nobody mentioned it within earshot of Billy or the pack alpha, but the young wolf held that fact close to his soul ever since the day he looked up and realized he lived in a man’s body now.

“Where have you been?” the alpha asked quietly. He did not need to raise his voice in his own house.

“What do you mean? I went to school,” Billy replied, trying not to sound defensive. He kept his thoughts empty apart from glimpses of the place: grey and green tiled floors, the drag and clatter of chalk, the itch it caused in his nose…

“I never gave you orders or permission to scout the outskirts. Now is not the time or place for your boredom to run rampant.”

Billy kept his breaths even, willing his heartbeat to remain even. It remained slow, but it hit harder against his ribs. “I understand.”

“Your school lets out at two-thirty. Where have you been?”

Billy shook his head. “Just driving around. If I’d smelled something wrong, I would’ve come right back.”

“See that you do. Mary’s come over to help with supper. You’ve kept her waiting long enough. Afterward, your patrols this week are on the east side of town.”

“Yes, alpha.”

As he washed his hands in the sink, however, Billy felt immensely grateful to realize something when the alpha wasn’t close enough to hear the spike in his thoughts.

_Steve lives on the east side._

Mary turned to look at him with a smile. “You just got real happy. What’re you thinkin’ about?”

“Gym class,” he lied, but he let his thoughts stray in that direction, and it didn’t feel like a lie anymore. Steve would be in the gym tomorrow.

* * *

He was in the parking lot when Billy pulled in after dropping Luke, Danny, and the others off. He stood surrounded by a small group of his, presumably, friends. Steve wore roundish sunglasses when he glanced over before any of the others, causing two feelings to well up inside Billy:

The first, being pride. Billy didn’t know if the automobile had alerted Steve and he’d merely looked up in curiosity, or if something particular had turned his head directly to Billy.

The second, was embarrassment. Odd, considering Michael’s loaned car was several steps up from his _Triumph_. But Billy felt freer on his bike. He wanted to cruise right up to that group and feel Steve’s hands on his shoulders as Steve threw a leg behind him. Move those thighs close behind Billy’s. And drive anywhere.

Steve waved to him as he strolled over the asphalt. He wore a light beige shirt today. Something the rich probably referred to as ‘champagne,’ or ‘wheat.’ No vest. Billy wished he’d wear that blue shirt again.

Names were exchanged. Handshakes given. Billy held the girls’ palms like precious things and their snooty little grimaces melted right off. The boys flinched when their grips were met with an unfair squeeze. Steve’s hand touched Billy’s shoulder, and the latter felt a mixture of annoyance at having his leather jacket between himself and that hand, as well as a bristle of anger.

They were all human, but a wolf still learns the hierarchy. Or establishes one. Steve interfered. A vampire’s interference rubbed Billy’s hackles the wrong way.

Steve removed his glasses as they entered the biology classroom. He sat by the window, so he pulled out Billy’s chair in passing. That was nice. Until, “Are you okay? You look like sleep was shy last night.”

_Weakness. You’re showing weakness._

_The vamp knows._

_My mate cares._

Billy inhaled, using the seconds to sort through the clashing thoughts. When that failed, he threw them all aside. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll still own your ass in gym.”

“Pfff,” he scoffed. “Watch, they’ll tell us to walk around the gym for an hour.”

Steve was almost right. Warm-ups involved walking laps around the gymnasium for twenty minutes, until a shelf of basketballs was rolled onto the court. Billy sent Steve a knowing smirk. It had been nice, watching the t-shirt move snugly around Steve’s shoulders. His fancy shirts seemed too big on him in comparison. Billy had kept his back to him in the changing room, not wanting to throw too many hormones his way on their second day of knowing one another.

But then the coaches put them on the same team. Steve grinned at him. “Carry me in bio but I’ll carry you here?”

“Yeah right,” Billy grinned. “Just try to keep up.”

However the coaches, and the entire class, soon realized that the two of them on the same side were too much. It was laughable, how well they worked together. Steve, with his speed, could see everything faster than their human counterparts. Billy, with his nervous system hardwired to Steve’s every movement, read and reacted accordingly.

Billy could not deny the allure of playing against him, though. The points moved slower now, but it was during a glance that lasted a little too long on Steve’s legs, that Billy discovered the vamp’s weakness. It was ironic, really, how Steve’s narrow legs resembled a wolf’s, but a wolf knew when to stand still. Steve just. Kept. Moving.

The yelp that came out of him the first time Billy knocked him off his feet had even Steve laughing. “Is that how it’s going to be?” he smirked, returning to his feet.

Billy’s reply came the second time. He scrubbed his hands over his sweaty face and raked them right over Steve’s dry hairline. “Run for your money, doll face.”

“You’ve made your point,” Steve returned flatly, swatting his hands aside. Billy reckoned he didn’t realize the favor that had just been done. In a room full of sweat, Steve was a dry towel, but they were all too distracted to notice. Billy had a game to win.

The whistle blew with Billy’s fingers nudging the ball right over the rim, and Steve once more on his back. Billy offered him a hand. “You move your feet too much. Plant them next time.”

Steve reluctantly accepted his hand and the pull to his feet. “I didn’t realize I’d pissed you off.”

“You didn’t. That’s the game.”

“You didn’t play like that earlier,” Steve defended on their way into the changing room. Billy peeked at him going to the sinks to wash his face instead of the showers.

Billy didn’t see him again until the parking lot after school. Much like that morning, Steve stood in the middle of his friends, the latter of whom called out to Billy this time.

A girl with brown hair rolled up into a fake bob smiled at him. Billy’s memory said Alice, but he wasn’t too sure about that. “We’re going to get some pop. You wanna join?”

Billy’s eyes flicked to Steve, who hid behind those sunglasses. His brows and mouth remained relaxed—receptive—but he didn’t repeat the invitation.

_Aw, vampy’s still pissed he lost._

“I’ve got an errand to do, but I’ll meet you there. _O’Malley’s_ _Farmacy_ , right?”

“Yep!” Alice chimed. “Right across from the filling station.”

Heads turned away from Billy when Steve asked her, “You riding with me?”

They began to disperse as she practically skipped next to him towards his motorcycle. “Sure thing. You better drive slow on Main. My gran works in the post office.”

“Should I do a lap around the lot?” Billy heard him tease on the way to the car. Billy tried and failed to not watch them drive off, looking like a white bread, American dream postcard with her on the back of his bike, holding onto his waist.

The slow crawling ache in his chest eased once Danny and Luke threw themselves into the car. Like the wolf inside could finally set his head down with pack members close by; young minds and voices chattering about their first day at school.

Billy half-expected everyone to be gone from the soda parlor by the time he finally drove up on his motorbike. He cast a swift look along the street, but the _Farmacy_ and the filling station were set catawampus to the rest of town. Nobody was coming here unless they had the express interest in gasoline or pop.

Although, when Billy took the seat reserved for him among the booths, he discovered an assortment of odd things on the menu. “Did you order waffles?” he teased one of the guys from the gymnasium.

“Sourdough waffles with butterscotch pop. I’m tellin’ you,” he insisted, but Billy waved that away.

He frowned at the menu and read, “What is _acid phosphate_?”

“It’s a sour flavor,” came Alice’s voice from where she sat with Steve and others in the booth across from them. She reached over to pluck a cherry from Steve’s glass, which had been filled with clear, bubbling fluid, ice, and maraschinos.

Billy lifted his chin at it. “What’s yours?”

Steve glanced at it. “Lime. Do you want to try it? You’ll only get one shot before Alice drinks all of it.”

She threw her straw across the table, like a tiny javelin at his chest. Steve still wore his sunglasses over his eyes, his arm draped over the back of the booth. Billy wondered if this was his usual element: king of his preppy human pack. But he laughed while he lifted his sunglasses to rest on his hair, pushing the glass to Alice’s side of the table.

Billy ordered the lime pop.

* * *

“So, Billy. Where is it you said you lived?”

He paused his lazy stride toward the other end of the lot, where his bike was parked. “West side of town. Those new houses.”

“The renovated properties?” one of the guys asked. “Shoot, me and my old man walked through those when the construction crews stripped them down to skeletons. Your folks must be military, huh? Vets are getting those houses for dimes, it seems like.”

“I love the smell of new houses. The wood and paint,” the girl on his arm mused.

Billy let them add whatever descriptions they wanted. Meanwhile, he took inspiration from Steve lounging on his bike with a cigarette in hand to return to his own vehicle for his pack. Billy looked over the flame licking the end of his cigarette to see Steve gazing across the road. Billy squinted briefly at the filling attendant going about his business. Just from a look, he knew the guy to be a veteran. The haircut. The gait. The way he held his facial features. The way he polished the side of a car after he finished with the fuel tank. Meticulous.

Billy sauntered back to the group. As if sensing him, Steve shifted his weight on his bike, and then turned his head—to Alice.

“Your house is on the way to Billy’s.”

“Yeah! I suppose it is,” she agreed distractedly, fixing one of her hairpins behind her ear. She tossed her head to and fro, testing her work before she taunted, “You passing me off?”

“I didn’t plan to. I need to do some housekeeping before my parents get back.”

Billy smirked to himself. If Steve wanted to get a girl off his hip, he could oblige. “I’d be happy to take you home. Could give you the scenic route, too.”

If Alice was bothered, she gave no indication of it. She shouldered her backpack and accused, “Careful, hot shot. Mentioning a scenic route will make people think you mean the fairgrounds.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard about those,” Billy crooned on the way to his bike. Alice laughed from deep in her chest, and took to his bike like she deserved to drive her own. Maybe she wasn’t so bad. She sure as hell wasn’t for Steve, but Billy allowed himself to like her just fine.

* * *

The night was _loud_ , even by human standards.

Poets ranted about birds at dawn, but had clearly been deaf to how much commotion they made when the sky held onto the last edges of orange in the clouds. Cicadas screamed from the trees, and all manner of nocturnal eyes were already open.

Steve’s had been locked on the filling station for a long time. He could hear the heartbeat inside it, the whir of various machines when the attendant used them and the sloshing rush of petrol when a client parked out front. He’d long since taken his motorbike home and driven back here in his mother’s car, posting himself a little ways down the road so he could see the exact moment the _Farmacy_ turned its lights out. The station would be open for a while yet; some late night workers using it on their routes home.

Steve could wait.

And wait he did. Because he didn’t like the way the man’s eyes lingered on his classmates. The way he’d been looking for _years_ at Alice. At Steve, too. Until Steve finished growing. He didn’t like the way the man stared so openly at Billy. It had taken Steve by surprise; Billy is, after all, done growing too.

But Billy is _new_. Billy is beautiful. All blue eyes framed with long, dark lashes and blondish hair that doesn’t know how to curl, really, so he’s handsomely unkempt all the time. He walked with a confident, lazy stride but used a soft voice sometimes…and today he’d smelled like kids. The way children smell equal parts clean and snotty. The way children smell…Steve could only liken it to fruit. Unripe fruit that is just as sour as it is sweet. He had no idea a person’s skin fragrance changed as they aged, but his nasal palette told him a lot of things now.

Billy’s was…as inexplicable as the way the air has a fragrance for each season. The way Steve could smell autumn and even a fringe of winter in the late summer night. Billy was a summer morning. Warm and full of promise.

The _Farmacy_ lights went out.

Steve’s father sometimes shared conversations with the attendant. Minutes spent reminiscing over the way things were at the start of the century, and the more pleasant aspects of Europe during the war; at least, told from their perspectives of a soldier and businessman. Steve’s father didn’t fight outside of paperwork and oiled conversation. Documents about a hole in his lung kept him well away from battle lines. Documents that Steve didn’t know were fake until he could _hear_ his father’s breathing for himself.

The same way he didn’t quite understand what was odd about the attendant until he could hear the loudness of his heartbeat, the surge of blood in different parts of his body when he gazed too long.

Two cars visited the station in as many hours.

Steve never knew what the attendant did outside of his work hours. For a while, he told himself he didn’t care. Because that’s what men do. A man’s business is what’s inside his home and his office, so his father believed.

Except a war had made a lot of peoples’ business everyone else’s business, and Steve learned his father wasn’t the only one living on lies.

The filling station’s lights went out.

Steve’s heart had stopped beating because of a lie.

He turned the ignition but kept his lights off the same time the attendant locked the station’s door.

It’s ironic, how Steve stopped lying once he died.

He pulled quietly up to the filling hose.

Because he did care. He cared a lot. He cared about Billy, even though Billy wrapped himself in a lie Steve couldn’t quite read yet. Even though he didn’t know why he cared so much after two days, especially after the way Billy treated him on the basketball court. He cared about those kids, even though wolves supposedly loathed and only loathed his kind.

His kind. Steve never thought he would use those words. He was still warming up to _vampire_.

He did not care about how the attendant’s heartbeat spiked upon rotating and seeing him. Steve did not care about the pistol hidden in his overalls. Steve was faster, stronger, and he pushed the side of the attendant’s head against the door with a solid _thunk_ that barely hid a discrete _crack_.

His whole body slumped.

Steve bent his knees so the attendant’s body fell over his shoulder. He opened the car door to the backseat and dumped the unconscious man over the bench. Despite the definite concussion and possible brain hemorrhage, he mumbled in his sleep.

“I don’t like this either,” Steve whispered to nobody, shutting the door and climbing into the driver’s seat. “But don’t eat where you sleep, as they say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *weird robotic dance and singing* ~ it's ~ vampire ~ time ~ ooh ooh yeah ~
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	5. Red

Steve wasn’t at school the next day. Wednesday.

Billy had gone by his house both nights during his patrols. Just like the rest of the neighborhood, a light shined by the front door and outside the carriage house, but the quiet crackle of a filament bulb was the only sound in the house apart from the refrigerator. It’s not like Steve needed to sleep—or even could—but Billy didn’t know where he spent those hours.

Thursday came and went without Steve as well.

Part of Billy felt relief. The less of Steve around town, the better. Billy had no idea what he was going to do if the pack discovered, not only Steve, but that Steve was his _classmate_. There probably wouldn’t be anything to do—Billy would be out. Exiled from the pack and shunned from the county, if not the entire state. A couple of the older wolves might call him a traitor and ordain he be killed, but with Billy being the head of the next generation of the pack, that was an intricate complication. The younger wolves outnumbered elders, which meant Billy had more wolves directly integrated in his mind than the elders did.

Simple generation gap. Killing Billy could result in a posthumous civil war—at least…a cruel part of him hoped. The last thing he wanted were his pack to be injured, especially the kids, but to be loved like a true alpha…

Besides, the pack alpha didn’t despise him that much…he hoped.

But if Billy took Steve with him in exile, he’d have to pray the pack didn’t hunt for them.

* * *

Friday arrived with Billy making the decision to ask about Steve’s equestrian club. The last thing Billy could imagine was Steve on a horse, but there were biology projects coming up. Even if a vampire didn’t need grades, Billy had to set an example with his own. He couldn’t have Steve’s lack of participation leaving a dent in the project analysis.

He couldn’t imagine Steve feeding on a horse, either. He also didn’t know of any task that took a vampire two days to finish. Perhaps that element of ignorance is what made Billy more worried and curious than suspicious.

And then surprised, when Steve stood in the parking lot on Friday morning. It had taken all week for the wolf pups’ schedule to deteriorate, so Billy pulled into the school with only enough time to walk to class. Steve went inside first, looking back at him without a wave.

Billy couldn’t help but frown a little at that. _Is he still pissed about the game?_

Billy wondered if Steve might be rather sensitive. When he’d first shut down in his house, he’d bounced back fast enough. He’d been a little rigid at the _Farmacy_ , but easygoing. That didn’t mean Billy could be _nice_ throughout a competitive sport. Surely Steve knew that?

_You didn’t play like that earlier._

What actually bothered him? That Billy had played a rougher game, or that he’d shown off at Steve’s expense?

When Billy arrived to class, Steve sat gazing out the window, holding his chin with his sunglasses still on. Sure, it was bright out, but Billy wondered if he just forgot he had them on.

Steve didn’t look over until Billy’s stuff landed on the table. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Billy returned, sitting. “You’ve been gone a while.”

“Yeah, sorry for abandoning you,” he teased while sliding some papers over the table. He sounded…tired? “I caught up, though.”

Billy didn’t really care about the homework anymore. “Where were you?”

“At the stables,” he chimed, like it was perfectly natural place to go.

“For two days?”

“Sometimes they need extra hands.”

The teacher called for attention with, “Gentlemen, please resume your discussion after class.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve replied. Ever so polite—

“And remove your glasses unless they’ve been prescribed to you, please.”

Steve sighed at that, slouching back in his seat and setting them on the table. Billy smirked to himself, facing forward while Steve rubbed his palms against his eyes.

After a while, Billy couldn’t help but peek over at him. Steve had resumed his stance of holding his chin and gazing out the window. His eyes were closed, listening to what, Billy didn’t know. He wished the windows here opened, but the 3x3 panes stood between Steve and the breeze that would move his hair and brush over his face like crushed velvet.

Billy pressed his back against his own chair, indulging himself and braving nudging his knee against Steve’s. His lashes lifted, but not by much; soft blinks over whatever thoughts Steve had.

“I’d give a penny for those,” Billy whispered, knowing Steve heard him.

“Hm?”

“What’re you thinking?”

“Not much.”

“Liar,” Billy taunted. He smiled when he pushed against Steve’s leg again, liking the swing of his thigh pushing back. Steve sat tranquilly, only moving because Billy pushed physics into him. When he turned his head to look at Billy—

Billy’s smile vanished.

Steve gazed at him through red eyes.

He felt like his bloodstream stopped. He didn’t feel cold with fear, or hot with anger. For a long moment, Billy didn’t feel anything, except perhaps confusion. And something else that taunted a lot like betrayal.

But betrayal at what? The universe, certainly. For giving Billy a soul mate, only to turn Steve into his immortal enemy.

At himself. How could he _forget_ what Steve’s diet subsisted of?

At Steve?

Billy began to feel sick from foolishness. He’d been the one to assume Steve fed on horses. It’s not that he forgot; he _wanted_ Steve to feed on animals, and decided that he did. But Steve looked him dead in the eyes with irises the color of shallow merlot. The washes of green were gone.

Billy’s lip twitched as he faced the front. He closed his own eyes, feeling them burn from staring for so long, but he still saw red.

The class emptied, and he realized the lesson was over. Steve remained beside him. Billy swallowed, wetting his throat. “Does it take two days to destroy a body?”

He heard Steve’s clothes rustle when he turned his head. “No.”

“When I said that thing about the horses…why didn’t you correct me?”

“It’s not your business.”

Billy wanted more anger in his gut than he currently had. He wanted something to quell the sickness in his throat.

“A dead person needs to be someone’s business.” He looked at Steve, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or ache at how human the bastard looked, even with those wine-colored eyes. “Is murder the same as slaughtering poultry to you?”

Something hardened behind Steve’s features, and Billy almost wanted to see more of it. _Show me the full monster. Make it easy for me to hate you._

_My soul mate can’t be a murderer._

“Some people deserve it. Animals don’t.”

Steve left him with that; standing from the table as the next wave of students began to trickle into the room.

* * *

Billy heard a motorcycle outside on his way to the gymnasium. He didn’t need to look around to know Steve had left.

“Steve’s skipping again?” someone else noted.

Billy smirked and said, “Cowards don’t like to lose twice in a row, I guess.”

But part of Billy thanked him for it. He didn’t know what he would do if Steve walked into the gym with irises the wrong color.

Afterward, when Danny and Luke strode toward the car, Billy could see the exact moment they knew something was wrong. They glanced at each other, but Danny was the brave one who took the front seat next to Billy. “Tough day?”

“Could say that,” he responded quietly, focusing on steering around the shitty parents who didn’t know how to drive their vehicles.

Luke leaned his arms on the back of Danny’s seat. “Any details you wanna get off your chest?”

“Wine is trash,” Billy growled cryptically. He could see the kids’ heads turn toward one another in his periphery, as well as feel the confusion looping in their brains. He couldn’t pay them any mind, though, because the wolf in his soul cried a weak sound, hurt by his own words. Even now, in his anger and disgust, the wolf ached for its mate. The longing surged so high that Billy’s throat hurt and the backs of his eyes felt bruised.

“Billy?” Danny asked softly.

He scratched a finger under his nose as he barked, “What?”

It took her a while to answer a whispered, “Nothing.”

After he parked the automobile underneath Michael’s carport, Billy visited his room in the alpha’s house. His bedroom had a door directly to the outside, so he stripped and nosed it open before kicking it shut with a wolf’s leg.

It was easier being the wolf. He didn’t have to keep his facial features arranged a certain way, and he didn’t have to talk to anybody. He could breathe easier. He could run until his lungs burned, or lie just about anywhere and let the earth hold onto him.

Steve’s house was empty again tonight.

Billy didn’t know what to think of that. Come the following week, someone else would patrol this side of town. As much as Billy wanted to breathe with relief at that, to restrict his entanglement with Steve to two classes and nothing more, the wolf in his heart urged a warning.

_Protect our mate._

_He needs to know. He needs to be careful when we can’t protect him._

_Protect a potential murderer?_

However, Billy’s convoluted thoughts took a sharp turn Saturday morning, when he became immeasurably glad to be patrolling the east side of town.

Because someone went missing in the southwest.

“That quiet man who fills our tanks, you know the one?”

“Margie and I take a drive every Sunday! I’ve tried to fill the car up four times this week! Where’s he gone?”

“I’ll have to go to the next town over, at this rate, and that sort of journey almost makes the mileage pointless.”

“Who manages the station? They ought to have hired a new employee by now, surely?”

“Well, you know…he was a quiet fella. A bit reserved.”

“Now that I think about it, Patricia always asks me to fill the car. She’s my wife, so I do it for her, but…she never liked that man. Now I wonder if woman’s intuition might be something.”

The talk of the town went in every which direction, Billy couldn’t keep up. He’d been assigned to take Luke and Danny to the diner to treat them to silver dollar pancakes for finishing their first week at school. Now all three of them peered around and at each other with a mixture of anxiety and bewilderment.

Billy flashed a smile at the waitress when she came over to top up his coffee. “Say, uh, that gentleman everyone’s talking about…” She nodded like she already knew whom he meant. “When did people notice he wasn’t at work?”

She blew her lips out while she thought about it. “Ooh…I think Mrs. Donnelly mentioned the day before yesterday some trouble with her car. I don’t get over there too often, since I’ve got my bicycle or my fiancé to drop me off. But I’d say Thursday.”

She nodded, her brushed out curls bobbing around her face before a man’s voice turned her attention. “No, no! Since Wednesday! Roger tried the place Wednesday morning, and I tried it that afternoon!”

She looked back at Billy with a shrug. “There ya go. You kiddies doin’ good?”

Luke and Danny nodded with quick thank yous to make her leave. Luke leaned forward to murmur, “Do you think the…has to do with it?”

“Maybe,” Billy lied. He cut into his pancakes with the side of his fork. “But I saw the guy on Tuesday. He looked like any other ex-soldier I’ve seen: saving up to move someplace else.”

Danny processed that with a slight frown. “Alpha said _this_ is the kind of place veterans come to settle down.”

“It’s a big country. This might’ve just been where the government dumped him,” Billy countered while setting her glass directly in front of her. “Finish your milk.”

On their way out of the diner, though, Billy spotted none other than Alice walking with a girlfriend out of some boutique. “Get in the car and wait for me,” he told the others, and jogged over to her. “Alice! Hey, I got a question.”

“Well, good morning to you too,” she huffed a laugh. “Sandra, this is Billy. Billy, Sandra.”

“Morning, doll,” he smiled over taking her hand. He turned back to Alice. “Do you, by chance, know how I might get to this…” His eyes lolled in their sockets because, really, Steve and horses? “Horse club Steve told me about?”

Alice’s brows flattened before she laughed. “Of course I do. I can take you there myself. I’m headed there in,” she glanced at the tiny watch face on her wrist, “not two hours from now, if you can wait?”

“I’ll follow you on my bike,” he agreed. “Where do I meet you?”

“Depends. Can you keep your eyes from rolling long enough for the drive?”

He laughed even though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just having a hard time believing Steve rides horses. He’s in my P.E. class, and he’s a clutz.”

“Some people fly better than they walk, _doll_. Meet back here at noon.”

* * *

The drive to the stables admittedly took Billy’s breath away. He hadn’t been exactly thrilled to relocate the pack and finish school someplace else, but everywhere had its beauty. It made sense for the rich horse lovers to use the land out here; the rolling fields and groomed trails through the woods and around the lake had Billy wondering how worthwhile it would be to run here during the full moon.

Alice’s car puttered over a fine, brick-paved road that branched over to a pair of stables. Billy glanced down the lane at another car headed towards a mansion of a building. He scoffed to himself when he realized the whole estate was a country club. Billy made a note to himself to ask Alice if they golfed or just rode horses here—but then he saw Steve’s motorbike right next to where Alice parked.

She waved him over as she got out of her car, so he stuck a leg out to stop and listen. “Could you park with Steve’s motorcycle? Space management can be a real issue here, and there might be a lot of people swinging by.”

Billy didn’t ask why until he lowered his kickstand. He strode with Alice toward the stables, now better able to appreciate her change in attire: tall riding boots, linen breeches with a collared shirt tucked into them underneath an autumn red blazer.

She answered, “We’ve been moving a _lot_ of horses around this week. Half the club—the half who doesn’t like snow—takes their horses with them to winter getaway houses. But then there’s a whole other batch of folks who move _in_ for the winter. _And_ we have two shows coming up. It’s a whole shindig you’re walking into.”

“I’m not dressed as smart as you.”

“It’s an understood thing: if you’re going to the stables, you’re getting dirty. If you’re going to the house, you’re getting drunk.”

Billy let himself smirk at that. “Noted.”

They both stepped to the side for a man to guide a horse out by the reins, but when the creature came in line with Billy, it whinnied and shied away. The mare’s large body shoved the man’s before he collected his footing and cooed to soothe her, but she did a full revolution around him to avoid Billy.

The man paid him no mind, too busy with getting the horse calm and away. Alice only shrugged. “Lots of busy, foreign smells keeping everybody spooked.”

“Thanks for not saying I reek,” he teased.

“I’ve smelled worse,” she finished, recommencing their pace into the stables. Billy didn’t necessarily believe that, but he maintained an unbothered countenance as horses’ heads turned to him and one kicked the door of its stall. Billy couldn’t help but chuckle a little to himself as he observed the surroundings and the oblivious humans compared to the very aware creatures around him.

But he liked it here. The saddle room filled his senses with old and fresh leather when they walked past it. He liked the jingle of the bridles and the soft and metallic clatter of hooves being groomed. This building had a front area where utilitarian things were on the right—saddle room, a large alcove with hoses for bathing—and on the left stood a row of stalls. Beyond it, though, was a large room floored with fresh sawdust. The riding area had high, fence-like walls on either side, separating it from more stalls framing it all in. On the far side, barn doors were open on the ends of the rows and riding area, allowing a great deal of sunlight to fill the cavernous space.

Billy inhaled, very much enjoying the mixed woody smell—

He realized someone was looking at him the moment he smelled him. A vampire…who wasn’t Steve. He quickly went back to arranging the jumping obstacles with other stable hands, but Billy gave Alice’s forearm a light pinch to get her attention. “Who is that?”

“Hm? Which one?”

“The one wearing sunglasses,” Billy refrained from growling.

“Oh! That’s Jonathan. He’ll actually know where Steve is—Hey, Jonny!”

The vampire raised his head as if he’d never been staring in the first place. Billy sniffed derisively, scratching his nose before he followed Alice over the sawdust and woodchips to meet him halfway. “Afternoon, Jonny. Have you seen Steve around?”

His head bobbed once in an…almost shy nod. “Good day, Miss Zilfrey. He’s in the fields right now. Did you want assistance with Queenie?”

“No, I’ll get her out myself, thanks. Jonathan, this is Billy… You know? I never caught your last name.”

He grinned without taking his eyes off the vampire. “I prefer Billy.”

Alice waved a gesture at him for Jonathan’s sake. “He’s new in town.”

Jonathan gave him that nod, but a little stiffer. He didn’t extend his hand. Billy didn’t offer his either. The latter pushed a hand into his jeans pocket and told Alice, “You can do your thing. Jonathan will show me the way so I can bother Steve.”

She huffed a laugh, but seemed more than happy to leave the men to whatever silent treatment they were doing. No sooner did she step out of ear shot, than Jonathan asked, “What do you want with Steve?”

_A house by the lake or to tear his neck out. I haven’t decided yet._

“We’re classmates,” Billy shifted his weight to better rest between his feet. “It’s going to be an issue if he’s always coming here instead of showing up for projects.”

Jonathan didn’t seem overly pleased by that response. “Does he know what you are?”

“I’m hard to miss,” Billy sassed. On cue, another horse kicked their stall door nearby.

Reluctantly, Jonathan rotated to lead the way through the riding area and out the barn doors. Billy followed over a skinny walking trail covered by the canopy of a forest that hid the private fields—at least to the untrained eye. Billy kept one of his on Jonathan and the other on their surroundings. He much preferred walking through nature with Steve, especially as a growing idea churned something akin to excitement in his belly.

“Can we speed this up?”

Jonathan glanced at him with annoyance but acquiesced, “Yeah.”

He didn’t run, but his walk sped up beyond human capabilities. Billy jogged beside him without breaking a sweat. When the trees diminished, shrubbery still lined the trail as Jonathan pointed, “The trail dead-ends where Steve is. I’m sure you can find him—HEY!”

Billy plucked his glasses off as he turned to go. Red eyes. As red as Steve’s.

The wolf held the sunglasses between them for the vampire to swipe back. “Last wolves I knew actually had manners.”

“Yeah? What happened to them?” he taunted—

“Billy?”

Moon and stars, the heat that trickled through Billy’s bloodstream at the sound of Steve’s voice, spreading through his arteries to the ends of his fingers…

Steve’s own glasses rested on his hair as he stepped through the weeds onto the trail. In the shadow of his brow bone, his irises almost looked brown, but as he stepped closer, they contrasted just a little too much with his brown hair.

Then he looked at the vampire instead of Billy. “You okay?”

Jonathan sighed, “Yeah, I’m good. Are you?”

Billy knew the question was in reference to him, but by now he just wanted Jonathan to scram at a vampirical pace.

Steve nodded with a vague gesture of his hand. He rotated to hop back over the shrubs into the field, and Jonathan turned toward the stables, both of them leaving Billy to decide who to follow.

 _What the hell was he saying about manners?_ Billy harrumphed to himself as weeds tugged on his pant legs. “Is this where you come to slack off?”

He could hear horses in the area, but the field sloped underneath more foliage, creating numerous places to hide. Steve shook out a blanket of all things, like he’d been doing just that: lounging. He didn’t look up as he drawled, “What do you want, Billy?”

There were so many places he wanted to start, but he settled on the sharpest one. “Tell me Jonathan killed that attendant.”

Steve’s head lifted, eyes finally locking onto him. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. The entire town is pissed about their empty gas tanks, and both of you have red eyes. Tell me it was Jonathan.”

Steve let the blanket fall in a heap on the grass. “Or what?”

Billy couldn’t believe his ears. A sardonic smile curved his mouth. “Excuse me?”

“Or. What,” Steve bit out. “Who died and made you king of anything here?”

The tremulous excitement in Billy’s gut seeped out. “Are you saying it was you?”

“I’m saying it’s none of your business. You showed up at the start of the week, and suddenly everyone has to answer to you?”

“A man is dead, Steve!”

“So?” Steve shrugged, looking elsewhere. His eyes practically rolled in their impertinent drag back to Billy.

Billy, who felt a chasm open up inside himself and beneath his feet. “I’m not hearing this.”

Steve shook his head. “You’re eighteen and the world just got a little more arbitrary. You’ll adjust—”

Billy stepped into Steve’s space, pushing a mean shove against his chest, forcing Steve to stumble backward. “Don’t treat me like some kid who can’t handle a ghost story. There are people in my pack missing limbs and sanity they’ll never get back. You assholes went for an easy target—”

“Don’t pretend like you gave two shits about some stranger at a gas pump.”

“I didn’t until he went missing the same day your eyes turned red!”

“Yeah, well, I can’t control that.” Steve sent a fleeting glance toward a bird, like flying far away from Billy sounded pretty good right about now.

Billy’s brows furrowed together. “Why aren’t you admitting to it? Why are you defending Jonathan?”

It was Steve’s turn to invade Billy’s space. “You’re going to leave Jonathan alone. I’m only going to tell you that one time. Do you understand?”

Billy’s lips curved, but there was no smile to it. He stepped back, but it felt like he was sitting down, letting his feet dangle over that chasm. “You’re choosing them.”

Steve’s features relaxed. “What?”

His bewilderment grew as he watched Billy scrub his hands over his face and mumble, “If I’d just gotten here sooner…”

“What do you mean sooner? Choosing who?”

“Vampires!” Billy exploded. “You’re choosing vampires over everybody else!”

“Uh. I’m choosing my friend over whatever the hell you’re suggesting. There isn’t any police force you can turn us over to—”

“You can’t just kill people, Steve! This is between the living and the dead, and you’re on the wrong side!”

“There aren’t any sides!” he exclaimed. “What do you want me to say, Billy? I have to eat!”

“Why can’t it be animals, then? Why can’t you use any of the horses that a fat wallet can replace in an hour?”

“I’ve _tried_ and it’s awful!”

That...made Billy’s heart retreat further behind his ribs. “What do you mean, it’s _awful_?”

Steve’s mouth opened and closed several times, trying to find where to speak until his hands covered his eyes and he fervently shook his head. Billy could only see his lips pressing into an anguished shape before Steve pulled his hands down and threw at him, “So, what? When you’re a wolf, you can kill rabbits and horses without any issues?”

Billy’s weight shifted. “We don’t have to, but…sure. It’s fine.”

Steve grimaced, “It’s not fine!”

“What do you mean, it’s not fine? That’s what wolves do, and I just said we don’t have to. But they’re just animals—”

“That’s the difference between us, I guess,” Steve spat. “I won’t be _fine_ if a horse carcass is found out here because your pack buddies got hungry. Whereas you’re bothered by some creep going missing.”

Billy stared incredulously at him. “You seriously care more about animals than people?”

Steve’s hands planted on his hips. “Right about now, yeah.”

For a long moment, that lingered between them like a wire pulled taut. Part of Billy was curious as to what Steve would do if Billy shifted here and now. What he would do if he had an animal right in his face—

Steve frowned, “Why’d you call him an easy target?”

Billy took a second to refocus. “Excuse me?”

“You said the filling attendant was an easy target. Like that’s the issue. That it was unfair to him or something.”

“It does seem pretty unfair to live night and day with bullets flying around you, only to come home and get some brat’s teeth in your neck.”

Steve’s eyes blew wide, his hands gesturing frantically. “What’s the DIFFERENCE? You’ll worship men who murdered because some rich asshole told them to, but I’m the criminal who’s just trying to eat—”

“You’re _dead, Steve!_ It’s completely different!”

“I’m right here!” He moved his arms between them. “I’m right here talking to you!”

“Hey, guys?”

Their heads whipped toward Jonathan on the edge of the field. He pointed a finger behind him. “Do you think you could, uh, yell louder? I’m not sure the humans have enough questions yet.”

Steve heaved a breath and swatted the air. “You don’t have to be here.”

“I kinda do,” he grimaced apologetically. “I don’t think you two realize how loud you’re being. And _you_ , you’re being inconsiderate.”

His dark blond head jerked up, the wolf’s growl in his voice as he warned, “That’s _rich_ coming from you.”

Jonathan had the grace to ignore the jab and insisted, “You’re asking the wrong questions. And you’re not explaining territory dynamics at all to him. This isn’t a conversation, it’s an interrogation, and not a very good one.”

Billy raised a brow at him. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-seven. Give or take.” Jonathan tipped his head like the detail was elusive.

“Did you kill him?” Billy challenged.

“We shared him.”

Steve intercepted too late, “You don’t have to answer that,” while bending over the grass for his sunglasses that had fallen off his head.

Meanwhile, Billy moved a hand over his stomach. “There it is. I’m going to be sick.”

Steve pushed his glasses once more over his hair as Jonathan countered, “Would you rather there were two people missing?”

“That’s enough, Jonny,” Steve urged quietly.

Billy wasn’t looking at them. Against his instincts, he turned his back to them, a hand over his mouth as he tried to fight the sickening tingles under his skin, the vignette trying to frame his vision. He inhaled the smell of grass and sky, and tried to focus on that as he slowly turned back to Steve. His Steve. “I can’t protect you like this.”

Those large eyes wandered, openly confused. “Protect me from what?”

“The town is pack territory. The whole county is—and they know a vampire is in it. They haven’t found you yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”

Steve’s weight moved between his feet as he processed that, and—Christ—all the wolf wanted to do was lay on Steve’s blanket under the sun with him.

“It’s…a small town,” he began. “There’s only one high school. I’m not hard to find.”

“I’ve been patrolling the east side where you live, but come Monday, someone else will be in those woods. You can’t wander,” Billy pleaded, “You need to go straight home after school.”

“The woods? Your pack’s wandering the woods? You’re just walking through people’s property?”

“I told you, the whole county is—”

“No it isn’t,” Steve clipped. “You can’t just call something your territory and it’s yours. These people don’t believe werewo—shifters exist. They sure as hell don’t want wolves around. They see one wolf print in the ground, and everyone will know. Every man in this town owns a rifle, Billy, and don’t assume the women can’t shoot. You’re gonna get shot!”

This…wasn’t the direction Billy expected things to take. He gazed at Steve with parted lips but had nothing to say. When Steve figured this out, he ventured, “That doesn’t bother you? At all?”

 _There’s only one gun I’ve ever been afraid of,_ he thought distantly. Aloud, he said, “We know what precautions to take around humans. You and…Jonathan,” he sent an unwelcome look at the vampire in question, “need to stay indoors at night. I’m a traitor a million times over for this.”

Jonathan interjected, “Then why are you telling us?”

Billy glanced at him but ultimately focused on Steve as he moved to leave the vampires in the field. “It’s none of your business.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve out here saying "ANIMAL WELFARE!" and Billy's like "........I think you have a fundamental misconception..."
> 
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